


Change

by Kazzy



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-31
Updated: 2009-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazzy/pseuds/Kazzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's used to change, but this change is a little different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

  
Timeline – Directly after Journey's End. (spoilers for)  
Disclaimer – Not mine.  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Being human is different than he remembers. John Smith was human with all the problems that made him human, but he had a human brain and human knowledge. He was equipped with the understandings and the instincts of a human. The Doctor is forced to deal with the problems of being human with a Time Lord's instincts and understandings and despite a number of similarities between the two species it is not enough.

Transport is not immediate; they have to wait for Pete to provide it and the Doctor resents this dependence – he's never had to wait, his comings and goings have been dependant on no one. It's not shame exactly, though that's mixed in there, inferiority lurking beneath the surface of his emotions as he hits the first limit of being human.

Being a Tyler, as it turns out is a currency and they don't have to wait on a beach – or worse an airport terminal for transport. For the handful of hours until their plane arrives they are given rooms in a hotel – the best rooms the hotel has – and are transported there in cars that arrive at the beach too quickly to have not been waiting.

Rose holds his hand all the way there, but separates gently at their destination, with a fleeting look he is no longer able to translate. Is it time and distance from when he last knew her or did he lose his ability to read facial express when he lost the TARDIS, lost all linguistic ability? Stupid thought: he understands every word that floats around him – a swirl of English and Norwegian, not that any are spoken to him.

He still feels the loss of the warmth of Rose's hand as he is led to his room – a loss he's become used to over time, but now strikes him as being horribly fresh. As she disappears out of sight, being taken to her own suite he registers another loss and he has to fight back panic at being alone.

There is a bathroom in his suite, and he glances into shining white tile and experiences a longing he doesn't understand until his eyes settle on the shower and then the deep luxurious bath. He wants to be warm and wet and clean, his brand new body feels sticky and grimy. There is salt and sand and sweat in places there shouldn't be and he wants to be underwater to remove them.

To say a Time Lord never feels cold or hungry or dirty or hurt or tired would be a lie – they feel all these things. But these things, he's learning are nothing to the way a human feels them, as dependant on their bodies as they are. Learning, but always known, but known is not experienced and it is not something he cares to continue to experience. Time Lords choose how much they feel, humans cannot and he resents that he's that much lower on the evolutionary scale.

He's tempted to resist the urge to bathe, he has centuries of conditioning that teach him to fight keep himself away from his body's desire and focus on his mind's. But when your body is human, it is more than simple desire it is need: need to be clean, need to be fed, need to be rested, need to be healed…and there are other needs, murkier but growing in presence, that are beginning to reach out: sex, love, comfort, companionship…

But he still has his Time Lord's brain, and his Time Lord's brain is capable of dealing with needs of a human as it turns out. He's naked and under the flow of the shower, temperature perfect, before he even realises it. There is no consideration and when conscious thought catches up, he realises that he's enjoying the feeling of warm spray against his skin as it washes away the doings of the day. He stands there for long minutes as the day washes down the drain, but he discovers part of it sticks in a way that water cannot to remove and the walls close in as his minds starts to go back over the happenings of his life, first as a Time Lord, now as a metacrisis.

He steps out of the shower and takes a soft white towel to dry himself off, trying to leave behind his thoughts on being a different species, on being 'broken', on Donna, on the TARDIS, on Daleks, on Rose...they follow him, but become muted again. He's glad, not wanting feel them tumbling through him.

The mirror provides a distraction and he turns to face himself fully. He's done this before, stood in front of a mirror naked to examine a new form, which is horribly vain of him, but always a compulsion even he couldn't fight. But this is not a new face he's examining, not even a new body.

It is the same, frighteningly the same and part of him is desperate to find a difference, but there is none. Same hands, same feet, same arms and legs, same torso, same fingers, same face, same freckles, same muscles, same teeth, same eyes, same hair…and his heart is racing with anxiety and he finds a difference, but it isn't the right difference. One heart, pumping oxygenated blood through a terrifyingly simple body.

He catalogues the differences: heart and lungs, respiratory system, genetic code (not human, but no longer Gallifreyan), and blood that is hot, but moving far too fast.

Change he is used to, but this is wrong, the wrong change, the wrong things are different, the wrong things are the same.

This vision greys, turns black and he loses focus for a moment, but it comes back with a jarring blow to his knees and he finds himself half kneeling, half sprawled on too white tiles. And finally, finally his Time Lord brain catches up with the rest of him – it was only pretending before, hiding and watching his body deal with being human.

And there it is, the one thing that is right about being a human-Time-Lord-Metacrisis: his brain hasn't changed. It's a ridiculous thing to be relieved about (he's stuck in a parallel universe, in a almost-human body, with no TARDIS, completely dependant on humans and his brain can't actually change any of that), but it does the trick.

He dresses slowly, back into his suit and the man in the mirror, looking back at him, is the Doctor.

Out in the main room, there are a set of clothes folded and waiting on the bed, clearly left with the intention that he was going to wear them. He's not. This body is new and capable of things like sweat and smells, but the suit and tee-shirt are less human than him and will not retain dirt and smells in the same way clothing of this human era will.

For long moments he is at a loss of what to do. He is tired enough to sleep, but not at all sleepy and the conundrum that presents keeps him busy for several moments. He could try and find Rose, which is top of his mind now that he is clean, but nerves keep him where he is. Hunger prompts him to try to get room service, but he is interrupted by a knock at the door.

On the other side is Rose, looking nervous and followed by a waiter with a dinner trolley. "I didn't know if you would want food or not," she says, seemingly embarrassed.

He's about to answer when his stomach rumbles. Again, it's entirely human, and he's not sure if he enjoys it or not, but he definitely would like the food that the waiter has brought and left for them. Fruit (no bananas, though) bread and chicken and salad. Very human food, very twenty-first century. He tries to think where to start.

Rose is watching him so carefully, like she's waiting for him either to burst into some strange monster (he caught her looking at him like that after he regenerated all those years ago), or to suddenly prove that he is the Doctor.

"I…" he pauses and swallows against a suddenly dry throat, "Would you like to join me?"

Fleetingly disappointment passes across her features, because he's neither Doctor nor a monster, both of which are things she knows how to handle. But she sits with him at the small, almost decorative table and they eat – as they have many times before – but unlike so many times before they talk little. It's uncomfortable, but the Doctor is glad for the food, he's always needed it for nourishment, and appreciated it for taste, but has not ever had to use it to alleviate hunger before and finds the sensation more satisfying than he could have realised.

They finish eating and stand awkwardly facing each other and he decides then that he does not like being human. It's uncomfortable. This is Rose and he is supposed to be comfortable with her.

And then suddenly she is in his arms hugging him tightly and it is comfortable, it is where Rose belongs. He holds her tightly, pulled against him, and it's the Doctor and Rose. The Doctor and Rose Tyler at last.

And then it is uncomfortable in a way he hadn't expected. His Time Lord brain gives him several very good reasons why he shouldn't kiss Rose, but his human body tells his brain where exactly it can stick those ideas, and he pulls back far enough from Rose to look her in the eye.

She meets him halfway in a kiss that is different from the one on the beach, it is still urgent and filled with complex emotions, but this one is born of comfort, rather than pained need and loss.

At least it begins that way.

But they are both human, and they have both been through a gamut of emotions today: reunion and fear and pain and anger and grief, which overlay the older sensations and pains of separation. His Time Lord brain distantly identifies that this is a very human reaction, and it points out that the most likely outcome of this will be further grief and guilt. Once again, though, his human body tells his brain to get lost!

Rose has one hand in his hair, the other is wrapped around his waist for support, her body pressed against his, her tongue tangling with his own. One of his own hands rests against the smooth flesh just under her shirt, the other is lower holding filled denim. Heat and desire are rising, responding to a very human, very basic need; a need that wants bare skin against bare skin. Earlier he found how satisfying it could be to feed one hunger, and now he wants to find out if this hunger will fell just as good satisfied.

He is just contemplating the logistics of some how getting himself and Rose to the bed, without separating, when she abruptly pulls back. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her breathing fast, her lips swollen, and her pupils dilated. She backs up slightly, and seems to be floundering, which he can empathise with, he's floundering too: swamped in desire and arousal.

"Um," she says. "Um." She glances at her watch, and then one of the ornamental, but surprisingly accurate clocks on the mantle. "We leave in fifteen minutes." And then she whirls and is gone.

A part of him is disappointed at her disappearance, but mostly he feels pride that he could so discombobulate her with a kiss.

However, there is still heat and lust and hormones flowing thickly through him, his human body still demanding release. A Time Lord would have control of his own reactions, calling them forward or pushing them back as needed, but he is not a Time Lord. Nevertheless, his Time Lord brain is severe as it dictates a number of unpleasant ways to calm himself down. He ignores them and goes into the bathroom to take care of it himself, remembering the feel of Rose – even fully clothed – pressed against him more than enough incentive.

Clean and calm once more he goes to find Rose and Jackie.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-


End file.
